


Too Young For Such Agony

by Marie_JosephJustCallMeLaf51



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Forced Orgasm, Humiliation, I really cant tag, If you want - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Platonic relationships are suggested, Queens Rangers, Washette if you squint, but Lafayette needs a hug, but you can think it romantic or sexual, non-con, violent rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-16 08:51:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10567857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_JosephJustCallMeLaf51/pseuds/Marie_JosephJustCallMeLaf51
Summary: George Washington is discussing battle strategies with two of his most trusted officers: Benjamin Tallmadge and the famed Marquis de Lafayette, but their world crashes and burns when a gang of skilled, violent Skinners hold blades to their necks and satisfy their own desires.





	1. The Three Musketeers

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this fic contains graphic rape and a bit of a panic attack at the end, so if this sort of thing triggers you, PLEASE proceed with caution

George, Benjamin and Lafayette sat in the General's tent together, sharing battle plans together around a map situated on the table.

The night was peaceful, or at least it had been before three attackers dressed in black (presumably skinners), had murdered George's life guard and burst in, taking them by surprise.  
"If you talk, you'll be laughing out of bloody smiles so keep fucking quiet." The leader demanded as he held a knife to Lafayette's slender throat, a line of red marring the porcelain skin. The two others did the same to George and Ben, preventing them retaliating in fear of death.  
Curiously, the man holding Lafayette pushed his hat and wig from the younger's head, revealing short red hair no longer than an inch. The General watched as the Frenchman's brows drew together in confusion, matching his own uncertainties. What were they doing? A hat and a wig were less valuable than most anything George had in his tent, surely. Benjamin still looked furious, but not struggling against the knife on his neck.  
With a cruel leer, Lafayette was further stripped of his coat and then his shirt, leaving him wearing his breeches and boots, bare-chested and shivering. The Marquis was slender and slight; shallow contours enhanced his light muscle tone, but his chest was clean of hair; a fact which bellied his youth. His chest was heaving with fear and slight pain as a knife was trailed over his torso, leaving beaded crimson in it's wake. George frowned, still unsure of their attackers' purposes, but becoming uncomfortable even as Benjamin paled, making to speak, but being silenced by the blade at his throat.  
"What a pretty thing..." the man restraining and stripping Lafayette marvelled, running a hand across the Frenchman's flawless chest. The Marquis shivered, visually repulsed by the motion.  
The penny dropped for George when the attacker, one hand grabbing Gilbert hard by the throat, rutted the tent in his breeches against Lafayette's hip; being so much taller than the younger General. A hot second later, the Frenchman paled and his skin took on an eerie grey shade.  
"Oh, God...." George muttered, but he could do no more as the knife at his throat pressed harder.  
"Jesus, you-!" Ben's horrified exclamation was suddenly cut off by his captor.  
The leader of the gang brought his hand to the hem of Lafayette's breeches, pulling them down to mid-thigh that the Marquis was exposed. A furious blush coloured Gilbert's chest, neck and cheeks as he made to struggle, but his restrainer reached behind to grab a handful of flesh.  
Lafayette squeaked, but could not move away from the unwelcome ministrations. Is this what they would do to the boy? George could imagine no worse fate.  
"On your knees, boy." The skinner demanded, pushing the shorter General to his knees, bringing him to eye-level with his crotch. Grinning like a fox, the man unlaced his own breeches to reveal his erect length. George could see the suppressed sobs wracking Lafayette's slight frame.  
"Suck." He demanded, fisting a hand roughly in short ginger hair.  
"But don't bite, or we'll give your friends over there a second smile." He leered, turning towards the two skinners that held George and Ben captive.  
"And make sure they watch." He ordered, turning back towards the Marquis at his feet.  
"Well, go ahead, no need to be shy!" The man snickered even as Lafayette's throat worked in his distress. George met frightened grey eyes, hearing Ben cursing, before Gilbert was struck across the jaw to jolt his mouth open and the attacker thrust his cock down his throat.  
Immediately, Lafayette gagged and attempted to pull away, but proved unsuccessful due to the hand in his hair. The skinner thrust at a cruel pace, giving the boy no chance to breathe, and it was only when George was genuinely afraid he was in danger of choking did he pull out. The Frenchman gasped, gagging and vomiting to the side even as he was pushed to the ground and onto all fours. The attacker grinned cruelly and jammed three filthy fingers into Lafayette's mouth for a few moment before pulling back the slick digits.  
"I don't think i need to tell you this is going to hurt." The skinner rasped before immediately thrusting two fingers into the Frenchman. Lafayette yelped before snapping his mouth shut at the warning of the knife to his throat. Sobs wracked the Marquis' body, tears streaming down angrily flushed cheeks.  
George made to close his eyes, horrified, but the cold blade bit into the soft flesh of his throat.  
Benjamin looked mortified, eyes wide and furious, teeth bared. None of them spoke.  
Now, Lafayette was pushed onto his back and the skinner growled and yanked off his boots, breeches and stockings before a third finger was added.  
"Oh this is going to be fun...oooooh.." The skinner groaned in pleasure as he sunk his length into Lafayette, who screamed but was immediately silenced by the very same fingers that had just violated him being jammed back into his mouth.  
The attacker thrusted hard, again and again at a jackhammer pace. George and Ben were forced to watch as the young General sobbed and whimpered in agony and humiliation, were forced to witness the blood seeping from between his thighs and slicking the violent thrusting.  
Lafayette's attacker suddenly barked a laugh and wrapped a hand around Gilbert's own length.  
The boy's eyes widened in furthered horror and his muted protests increased in volume even as his body responded to the unwanted ministrations.  
George's heart and eyes burned with pity as the Marquis' breathing increased in tempo, stuttering as the Frenchman came, followed soon by the skinner if the guttural groan was any tell.  
"Oi, Sampson," Ben's captor called.  
"I'm next!" The three men jeered even as Sampson pulled out from Lafayette, leaving him sobbing and curled inwards on the hard tent floor.  
"Of course."  
Sampson tucked himself back into his breeches and walked over to Benjamin and took hold of the knife, jeeping Ben restrained whilst the other man stalked towards the broken young General.  
"See, you liked it." He muttered, spreading Lafayette's release all over his chest and torso.  
"I bet I can make you come a second time, eh?" The man continued as he laid on top of Gilbert and unzipped his breeches, sinking his hard length immediately into a heavily bleeding and sobbing Lafayette.  
Again, the boy's body reacted to the violation and again, the man swapped with George's own restrainer who somehow managed to force a third release from the broken young General and pulled out.  
"Well, thank you ever so much for your time, gentlemen," Sampson sneered as they retreated, holding their muskets in front of them.  
"But we must be going." And they fled, leaving the three officers horrorstuck in the tent.  
"BASTARDS! YOU SICK, TWISTED-!" Benjamin cried as they left, but came to his senses when Lafayette whimpered from the floor, curled and covered all over his torso and thighs with still-seeping, sticky blood and his own unwanted release.  
"Dear God, have mercy..." George muttered to the heavens as he slowly approached Lafayette, gently laying a hand on his slight shoulder.  
"Lafayette? Gilbert, can you hear me? Ben, get me a cloak." George heard the Major cursing, a frantic rustling followed before a soft woollen cloak was thrust into his arms.  
The general draped it over the pale, shivering body of the Frenchman and picked him up bridal-style, laying the young man onto the small cot; he still moaned and mgasped in pain.  
"Ça fait mal, ça me fait mal, je suis désolé, je suis tellement désolé, tu me tue-" (it hurts, it hurts, im so sorry, im sorry please-) Lafayette whimpered, shrinking into the material of the cot.  
"Lafayette-" George began gently, laying a careful hand on his shoulder as Ben stood behind him, looking on at the broken Marquis with fury on his countenance.  
"NE ME TOUCHE PAS! ÉLEVAGE DE MOI!" (DONT TOUCH ME! GET AWAY FROM ME!)  
George leapt back, surprised and alarmed at the outburst as Lafayette burrowed his face into the thin pillow, clutching the cloak around him like armour as he trembled in shock and pain.  
"Gilbert, son, i'm not going to hurt you, me and Benjamin, we need to help you." The General assured softly, walking slowly towards the young man who raised his head and looked at George with wet, frightened grey eyes.  
"G-George? Benjamin? Merde, mon Gènèral, I-It hurts, I-I-I d-don't-t-" Lafayette began to stutter terribly as shock took hold of his system and his body trembled so violently it almost looked like he was having a fit.  
George hurried to his side, gently holding his shoulders in a firm grip.  
"Benjamin, could you please go and fetch my surgeon from his tent." The general spoke quietly, so as to not spook the frightened young man shuddering beneath him.  
He received no answer but footsteps sprinting through the camp, growing distant as they left.  
Sighing, George held onto Lafayette as he shivered and whimpered, heart burning with sorrow. 


	2. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Lafayette's horrific ordeal, Benjamin and Washington attempt to clean things up as we learn the identity of Lafayette's attackers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!   
> So sorry for not posting yesterday; I fell ill and was bedridden:(  
> However I am back again with another chapter! This was a lot longer than I had originally intended, so I've cut it up into two chapters...I apologise for the terrible writing, but please enjoy! 
> 
> WARNING: The following chapter (obviously) contains mention of rape and profanity so if this offends you...don't read! 
> 
> -Laf out

Benjamin sprinted from the tent, echoing whimpers chasing him and snapping at his heels like demented hellhounds.   
He bolted alike a frighted hare through the camp, ignoring the cold that bit at his cheeks; there were more important things at hand.   
Like finding a physician for Lafayette.   
Ben nearly stumbled as he recalled the horrific events that had occurred not minutes ago. Lafayette: kind, benevolent, good-natured, ebullient Lafayette had been groundlessly attacked and traumatised, suffering unimaginable violation and savagery at the hands of brutish men. How anybody could set a hand on such a sinless creature, Benjamin could not fathom.   
Dear God, if he ever saw the faces of those abhorrent monsters again, they wouldn't live 'till next light, he swore it.   
The physician's tent was a distance away, but the wrath set a rolling boil in his blood and Ben had to fight the need to howl his outrage to the sky like a beast, instead using the fury to power his run as fast as he could physically move, and faster.   
He crashed unceremoniously through the Doctor's tent flaps, heaving for breath.   
"Doctor!" The man jolted from his sleep, peering belatedly through his loose hair at Ben.   
"General Washington's tent...need your help...urgently..." The Major fought to get the words from between desperate gasps. Lafayette did not deserve to suffer for longer than was necessary.   
The Doctor immediately leapt from his cot, pulling on an overcoat and grabbing his worn valise.   
"Is it the General?" The man asked, ready to leave in seconds.   
Ben shook his head.   
"It's the Marquis de Lafayette. We were- we were attacked by three men dressed in green, or black; I didn't really pay attention." The physician peered up at him curiously.   
"How is he injured? Was he shot, or stabbed?" Ben halted for a grim moment, looking the older man hard in the eye.   
"He was raped."   
The words hung in the air, stretching the silence like a taught wire that snapped when the Doctor whirled around and hurried towards Washington's tent.

Ben walked in first, noting that the other two had not moved; Washington was still sat beside the Marquis, strong hands owho trembled so hard the cot shuddered.   
Slowly, cautiously, Ben advanced towards the bed as the Doctor pulled aside the tent flaps.   
He knelt down and spoke softly.   
"Lafayette? It's Ben. I'm going to put my hand on your arm, alright?"   
Ben did so, and Lafayette started, but didn't pull away. He counted that as a victory.   
"The Doctor's here. He needs to...he needs to examine you, to make sure you're not too hurt."   
The Frenchman looked at him with frightened grey eyes, but Ben could tell he was trying to bridle his fear. The younger man nodded.   
"The General and I can stay outside, if it makes you more comfortable." For a moment, Lafayette was quiet, and Ben decided that it might be better if they did leave, so he made to straighten up. A hand reached to grab at his sleeve.   
"Stay." Lafayette rasped, throat damaged from his ordeal.   
Ben gently grasped his slender hand and intertwined his fingers with smoother, more slender digits.   
The Doctor moved now, walking towards the three of them with his brown leather valise at his side.   
"If you could sit him up, that would be preferable."   
Gently, Ben and George helped Lafayette to sit so that his feet were on the floor and the too-large woollen cloak hung around his shoulders, attempting (and failing) to ignore the whimpers of pain.   
The doctor pushed the cloak from the Frenchman's shoulders, but didn't remove it, so that the fabric pooled around his hips and groin on the bed. Ben grimaced, and saw George's jaw clench as they took in the bruises and cuts their attackers had left behind.   
Firstly, the Doctor brought his fingers up to the black bruise that bloomed like dark ink across Gilbert's cheekbones and pressed gently; to his credit, the Marquis stiffened and winced but didn't try to pull away.   
"It's not broken, but this bruising will take a while to go down."   
After similar treatment to the various minor wounds on his torso and neck, ignoring the blood and other mess there, the man only pointed out one long, deep laceration.   
"This will need a few stitches. It would be practical to do it now."   
Lafayette nodded, but kept his eyes averted as the Physicist went about his work.   
However, when the doctor made to remove the cloak around his hips, the Frenchman drew it closer about his body with fear sparking heavier in stormy eyes.   
"Marquis, I need to check you are not bleeding heavily enough to need stitches, so please-"   
Lafayette shook his head vigorously.   
"N-no, please, i will be bien, merci." (Fine, thank you.)   
The doctor frowned, as if he were treating a petulant child, and reached again for the cloak.   
Ben immediately stepped in front of Lafayette like an angry human shield, grabbing the doctor's wrist.   
"He said he didn't want you to. Thank you for your help and discretion, Doctor. You may leave now. We will call fir you if we have further need for your skills."  
Glowering, the doctor hesitated, but nodded curtly and walked from the tent.   
Turning back to the room, Ben looked about for a basin of water.   
"Lets get you cleaned up...here." He retrieved a still-full copper bathing basin and cloth, placing them at the base of the cot and wetting the cotton, wringing it out and slowly sweeping it across Lafayette's narrow chest as his heart burned with injustice.

************

A rowdy cluster of soldiers cheered as they sat gathered around a campfire, drunk.   
Five of them had recently returned from a risky cross into their enemy's major encampment for supplies (and a few of the women that now lay used and dead in the earth not ten feet away).  
"-she was a virgin, i swear it! She was all 'please sir' 'n 'no sir' an' 'three bags full, sir!'"   
"Thats nothin'; my lass was no older 'n fifteen! Barely had any hair on her sweet little cunt!" Their audience laughed raucously as two of their party recounted their activities in camp.   
Whilst many of them jeered, three men smirked at each other, ready to tell their tale.   
"Great as all that is, boys, we have a better story; That French boy-general! I swear, he cried like the babe of a girl!"   
A second man chipped in.   
"Made the General an' 'is spy watch 'n all'!"   
The camp was silent, until one man spoke out.   
".....you're not kiddin'?"   
"Well o' course we aren't! His arse were as tight as any girls' cunt i ever fucked!"   
"You fuckin' sodomites!"   
Their audience suddenly burst into hysterics, whooping and shouting foul curses into the forest's familiar gloom. Until soft footfalls approached them and a soft, high but foreboding voice rang out like the sound of a knell.   
"You mean to tell me, you had the General of the Continental Army at your mercy and you let him live?" The voice was deceptively amenable, in stark contrast to the tall figure that was silhouetted against the flames.   
"Uhhhh..." None of the men had anything to say, and the nervous tension grew thick around them.   
However, it was dispelled slightly when Captain Simcoe laughed and turned to the three Queen's Rangers that had claimed to assault the Marquis de Lafayette.   
"No matter, that is none of our concern. Now please, tell me more about our dear Marquis...."

************

Throughout the night, Ben remained with Lafayette in his own tent as he slept fitfully, whilst Washington alerted and reprimanded the sentries in camp for their blunder, but told nobody how close they had come to murdering three of America's most prized Military leaders. Ben knew he'd also tell nobody the nature of the Marquis' injuries to save for humiliation and scandal.   
Many times, the younger man had awoken plagued with fear as he clutched Ben's lapels and whispered desperately in French that Ben had no hope of understanding, yet somehow knew just what was being said.   
Every time, the Major tried to console him with gentle touches and was touched by the trust that presented itself as the Frenchman slipped back into fitful rest.   
He found that he didn't want to sleep and leave the younger man open to the shadows when he woke from a nightmare; he probably couldn't even if he wanted to.   
The guilt bit deep into Ben's heart no matter how hard ben tried to think logically.   
_It was your fault. If you'd fought harder, or offered to take his place-_  
No. if you had faught harder, they would have killed you and they only hurt Lafayette because he's so much smaller. They're cowards.   
That doesn't matter. You could have died trying to save a friend instead of sitting and watching.   
Ben couldn't fight against his own thoughts, however, and sat locked into a tiring battle as his eyes traced the fair features of the disturbed creature before him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I hope you enjoyed this chapter; Please leave kudos and comments because they make life worth living and prompt me to get my ass out of bed to write!   
> The next chapter will likely be posted within the next three days so...till then!  
> Also if there are any mistakes, please do tell!   
> -Laf out

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this chapter through to the end! It would mean a lot if you could leave kudos or a comment telling me where i went wrong...There will be more chapters regarding poor Laffayette's recovery and the psychological consequences of his horrific ordeal...
> 
> -Laf out


End file.
